


Vulnerable

by prairiecrow



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Clothing Kink, Established Relationship, M/M, Rough Sex, watching while sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-25
Updated: 2012-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-30 03:06:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/327085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prairiecrow/pseuds/prairiecrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An unguarded moment in the dead of night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Vulnerable

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place sometime in S3.

It was very important not to make a sound beyond the deep, even breathing one would expect from a man asleep. It was also vital not to shift position: the slightest hint that he was awake would be detected, and this precious moment of vulnerability would be lost. So he lay just as he'd been when his eyes had opened: on his left side, his head pillowed on one folded arm and the other hand curled on the mattress in front of his chest, gazing silently at the line of Garak's naked back only centimetres away.   
  
It was the night cycle and the main sources of light in Julian's bedroom had been extinguished hours ago, but the ceiling panels still bestowed a faint glow that caught on every scale. He took the opportunity to trace their patterns with his eyes in a way that Garak seldom permitted when he was awake. It wasn't that the Cardassian seemed ashamed of being nude; no, as far as he could tell Garak simply treated the covering of his body as yet another layer of necessary secrecy, a protective camouflage to be abandoned only in moments of the most intense intimacy. Unlike Julian, who was quite comfortable walking around his quarters naked, Garak was always fully clad until they actually fell into bed together, and there was something about the shedding of each article of clothing that wildly excited Julian as a consequence.   
  
He smiled, remembering his shameless arousal as he'd pressed Garak back into the mattress earlier this night and traded fierce kisses, the delicious perverse contrast between his own nudity and the spy's prim attire that covered everything but his head and his hands. It was always a wonderful challenge to coax him out of each element — tunic, shoes, pants, thermal undergarments, underwear — because Garak still made a game of demurring, seeming to delight in inspiring his Human lover to new feats of seductive persuasion. Julian didn't know if all Cardassian males were so coy (given Gul Dukat's reputation, he seriously doubted it), but it suited Garak perfectly, as did his habit of slipping into equally concealing nightclothes after an evening of spectacularly hot and uninhibited sex.  
  
Tonight, though… tonight they'd fallen asleep still entwined, sharing each other's breath, and Julian had awoken to this rare opportunity to simply admire. Garak's spine was guarded by a double ridge that ran from the first thoractic vertebra down to his coccyx, a utilitarian structure that sent branches out along his ribs and forked over his buttocks, but between those leathery scales lay baroque patterns of a silkier texture, the scales smaller and softer than the protective ridges, and marvellous to touch. He longed to reach out and trace the curves they made, the lines that marked erogenous zones, but restrained himself.   
  
There was something achingly beautiful about the relaxed dove-grey expanse of the Cardassian's back, the slow rise and fall of his breathing, the subtle contours of the muscles visible through his slight padding of fat — Garak was relatively sedentary and cut his tunics to emphasize the impression of plumpness, but Julian knew from experience just how much strength was concealed in the stoutness of his figure. Glancing down at his own wrist, he could see the shadows of bruises that he'd have to erase in the morning before starting his shift. He was similarly marked elsewhere, hips and thighs and back and throat, but only the areas visible outside his uniform would have to be tidied up: the rest he kept as trophies of battle, knowing from Garak's enigmatic smiles as he traced the remnants of old encounters that from a Cardassian point of view they were extremely alluring.  
  
A sigh brought his attention back, followed by a twitch of the broad ridged shoulders and a swift indrawn breath. He knew the signs well, and was not surprised when Garak tensed, then deliberately relaxed and stretched the length of his body with a slow serpentine ripple. It was a deliberate exhibition, a gift, and when he turned over to face Julian they were both smiling.  
  
"I should put something on," he murmured.  
  
Julian's smile widened. "If you must," he whispered, accepting the inevitable with a kiss.  
  
THE END


End file.
